Sketches in Good eyes
by Kokorocala
Summary: When little marvels of talent shine in Engineer's eye, The Sniper recoils from his compliments. What do these two dangerous and peaceful individuals actually have to fight about?
Sniper sat in his tower, high above the dust and rock below. It was a treacherous sort of climb up, but he didn't mind. If it meant to get away from those lunatics he called didn't have much against them, but they definitely had something off about them in one way or another. He preferred the company of the sky, and his scope. He liked watching over them, but he couldn't change them. They'd either be shining their weapons or cleaning up the blood on their clothes, but he liked his place up above, away from the chaos down below.

Some days, when it was particularly peaceful, he liked to look up at the sky. At the birds passing by. Sometimes a stray bullet would scare them off, but his eyes marveled at the open blue, and soaring shadow of black feather below the sweltering sun. It made him feel at ease. He kept a small journal he kept safe in his pocket. It contained sketches and small colored pictures of the landscape. He was certainly in the position to do so, literally.

On one of these days, he didn't get much sleep the night before. The sound of quite bustle down below had lulled him to sleep, and his teammates only found out after the squabble was finished that he was sound asleep, on that little crate in the rickety old tower. They weren't about to haul him down, but Engineer was inclined to cover sniper up with a small plaid blanket he stored up there for cold, tired mornings.

"Darn fool lives in a piece of paradise up here..." He picked up a trash bag of coffee cups and headed back down, but not before seeing the journal that had slipped out of Sniper's pocket. He quietly inspected it. It had his name: Mundy. _It must've been his_ , Engineer thought. He looked at the small , beautiful drawings of birds and desert landscape flowing across each page. Sniper opened his crusted eyes and rubbed them clean of gunk. "What're you doin' up here, mate?" He glanced at the book in Engineer's hand, and quickly ripped it from his hands. "Don't touch things that ain't yours, bighead." He grumbled. He climbed down after taking the trash bag, seeming a bit flustered.

The next morning in the bathroom mirror, Engineer cleaned his face, while Sniper shaved his chin smooth. They were alone, and the bathroom wasn't usually busy when these two got up. They had to prepare quite a lot before battle. Engineer inquired,"Hey look. I saw yer drawins. I think they look pretty nice." Sniper tapped his razor down hard on the sink to clear the cream. "Yeah." He didn't much like talking. He brushed his teeth, but Engineer persisted with pleasant questions. "Who taught ya?"

"Me mum."

"Why do you draw em?"

"I want to."

"When do you find the time?"

"When I'm not shootin'."

"What's yer process?"

"My process is climb up half a mile up a ladder, sit my ass down, if I find something might pretty to look at, I draw it. I then go back to shootin' nosy little nuisances like you. Leave me alone." Sniper said coldly.

He slammed the towel that cleaned up of the excess shaving cream onto the sink and left the bathroom, slipping on his shirt. He shoved spy back with his shoulder while exiting. Spy rubbed his shoulder. Wasn't gonna be a friendly day between the goggles and scope.

"Alright, this is bothering me," Spy admitted,"You two usually get along fine. don't even see each other much anyways. Why is he so mad? he killing everything before we can even see it. What did you do?" Spy asked.

"Ah, don't mind that little sour puss. He's just all lonely cooped up there, he doesn't know when to take a compliment."

"How did the piss-throwing jarman acquire a compliment from the friendly engineer?" He grinned with perplexity.

"He draws in this journal of his. Not a bad artist. Got a good eye, I guess that'd be pretty damn obvious."

"Maybe he thought you were looking down at his work as 'cute'? You are fairly intelligent, despite your behavior."

"Wow, thanks. But I wasn't looking down at nothin', I just..."

"Laborer, you're a mother to this team. Always looking at everyone's work and being supportive, helping someone if they need it, even making food for us. The bushman probably doesn't want you to treat him like that. As much as I detest to say it, you're not the problem, but he isn't either. You just need to leave him alone. Like he wants."

Engineer looked down at the ground. Maybe he was being too motherly and supportive. What did these men do for him? Engineer was very contemplative that night. He sat at his work table. When he didn't arrive at dinner, Spy told Sniper to go give Engineer a plate. Reluctantly, he followed the simple gesture. He left the plate of food before the workshop's door, and pounded on it with a loud fist. "Come and get ya food." Engie went to the door.

Engineer watched Sniper walk back down the hallway to the dining room. Engineer became a nosy nuisance right as the assassin was well off the to the table. He sneaked off to his van out back. He opened the door with a small lock pick mechanism he built. He flicked on the lights of the small habitat. There were pictures of birds and paintings everywhere. They soared off the walls, the vibrant colors of sunset sky painted his small bedroom, birds along the wall in the john. Engineer was amazed. The van suddenly rumbled with the step up on the open door's steps. Sniper gave Engineer a hard stare. "What're you doin' in me van, mate?" He held his large knife. Engineer wasn't keen on dying tonight, so he tried to explain himself.

"Sniper, I um... I just, wanted to see if you had more art. I love the way you draw the-" Sniper kicked Engie down onto the floor and towered over him. "You don't come in 'ere. eva. This is _my_ home." He picked the small man up by his collar and faced him. "I don't want you or ya stupid compliments in my van. Get out." Engineer forced himself down, and punched Sniper in the glasses, fracturing the glass, and breaking the nose piece.

"What did I ever do for you act so damn contentious?! I'm just saying your arts great, I'm not trying to make fun of ya!" Engineer bristled, and Sniper's nose leaked a droplet of red. "Get out... now." Engineer wanted to say something else, but he just left.

The man that usually found a more peaceful way to express his feelings, like small curses, was now kicking the van door shut. Engineer went to bed angry.

Another morning. It was the weekend, but Sniper wasn't sleeping in. He was working at the kitchen counter. Engineer rose early, but when he saw sniper, He grimaced. Sniper looked at Engineer and back at the page. He seemed... bothered. When the team had gone and dispersed to do their weekendly tasks, Sniper approached the wrench whipper. He took out the book. And turned to a page. Engineer peered at it, then stopped furrowing his brow. "Dell Conagher, The good man." was written at the top. It was Engie's face, but... it was the same expression as last night's. When He asked sniper why he hated those comments. It stuck to his eyelids till morning, when he drew it. Engineer looked at Sniper, who had put his hands into his pockets. "Sorry." Was all he said.

Engineer... signed. "Thank you." was all he said. Engineer's face was put on the Van's wall, and they held shoulders. A blood-stained dove cooed overhead.

A sign of peace.


End file.
